“And…you don’t wanna be found. Is that it?”
She nodded, turning away to draw the curtains across the window. “I came a very long way to keep from being found, Levi.” Her voice was so soft he had to strain to hear what she said.
“This man…is he a former…husband?”
“No,” she said quickly. “No—nothing like that at all.” She turned back to face him, resignation in her features. “When I was a baby, my mother married a man I was brought up to believe was my father. He was a doctor. We lived in New Orleans, and my father had a reputation for being the best doctor around—a man who could cure almost any ill that beset a person. No one could set a bone straighter, deliver healthier babies, or rid people of their illnesses more successfully.
“I wanted to be just like him. And I was—he trained me in the art of healing. But when I was three, my little brother died, and three years later, Maman passed during a difficult childbirth, along with another boy baby. So, it was only Papa and me. And then—when I was sixteen, Papa died, as well.”
“I’m sorry, Valentine. Sounds like you’ve had a lot of bad times, for one so young.”
She smiled at him, and it was as if the sun rose.
“I survived.” She lifted her head. She was trying to put on a brave front—but he knew that wasn’t all there was to the story.
He gave her an acknowledging nod of affirmation. “I can see you did just that. But—what happened to you after your papa died? That must’ve been really hard.”
“Yes,” she said softly. “Because—I was not white.”
Levi’s head came up quickly.
She smiled at his shocked surprise. “You didn’t know? Maman was an octoroon. My father was…a wealthy plantation owner, Mr. Reginald Jacobs. My mother was a slave, but she—she married Papa, and she was already pregnant with me.”
“But, how?”
“Mr. Jacobs is a greedy man, from all accounts. Papa got to him in a moment of weakness, and paid a huge sum of money for Maman. But after he sold her, he changed his mind. That’s why we had to live in hiding for all those years. Why I still do.”
Levi let out a low curse as he reached to set the soup bowl on the table. Valentine smiled, then drew up a chair and sat close beside him, taking the dish from him.
“My father, the doctor, treated me as his own. I was his daughter in every sense of the word—and he loved me very much. But once my younger brother Pierre died, and then Maman and the baby—it was too much for him. He drank heavily. Finally, he had to give up practicing medicine. But he taught me everything he knew, and he loved me—and for that, I shall be ever grateful.”
Levi nodded. “Sounds like he was a good man. And you had a good life, in spite of losing your mama so young.”
“I did have a good life. But I’m afraid my real father—Mr. Jacobs—has discovered the truth about me. He’s the one I fear, Levi. I believe…maybe…he’s the one who’s coming after me. Even after all these years.”
For a moment, Levi couldn’t speak. He couldn’t imagine anyone having such demonic intent, but when he looked into Valentine’s amber eyes, he knew her father wasn’t coming after her to welcome her into the bosom of the family.
He was coming after her to force her to take her mother’s place.
“How do you know?” he muttered.
“You know how rumors get around—this one tells that one she heard something whispered…well, before long, the whole world knows, but there’s not one person who’ll stand up to help. I’ve received letters from some who knew Maman. I’ve heard enough to know there’s something to it. He’s not taking me with him, though, if he ever finds me.”
She lifted her head quickly to give Levi a penetrating gaze. “My—Mr. Jacobs—doesn’t want me for any reason other than to service him in the bedroom. And I’d rather die before I let that happen.”
Levi saw the desperation and fear that ate at her. He reached awkwardly to pat her hand, and she turned her wrist over, their hands meeting and clasping.
“Val, I promise you, I won’t be one of those who looks the other way. I will do everything in my power to keep you safe.”
She smiled, bringing his hand up to her lips and kissing his knuckle.
“Bless you, Levi,” she whispered. “But I’m not sure anyone can save me. Even I didn’t realize how powerful he was until…recently. I can truthfully say he’s the only man I have ever been afraid of.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Levi fell into an uneasy sleep, and just as Valentine had said, his fever rose in the night. She sat beside the bed, a basin of cool water within easy reach on the night table.
“Lie down,” he’d mumbled once, opening his eyes to see her hovering over him, her features drawn and worried. “’M cold…”
He’d hoped to get her to lie down and rest, expecting refusal—but when he’d said he was cold, she immediately lay next to him and pulled up an extra quilt she’d brought in earlier.
“I’m going to put my arm around you, Levi,” she said softly. “But it doesn’t mean anything. I’m just trying to get you warm, that’s all.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he whispered back as her arm came across his waist. He tried to keep the smile out of his voice, but knew he’d been unsuccessful when she stiffened next to him.
“I mean it.”
“I know. I understand.”
“No, you don’t. ’Cause you’ve never been a woman.”
“An’ I hope to God to keep it that way.”
She rose up on her elbow, trying to get a glimpse of his face in the darkness.
“I ain’t makin’ light, Valentine,” he said slowly. “A woman always has a hard row to hoe in life. Whether it’s havin’ babies, or fixin’ meals three times a day, or washin’ clothes ’til their knuckles bleed. I don’t truly understand, I guess…but I try to.”
“Well…that’s about all a body can do, then, I reckon,” she said across the shadows.
There was no way Levi could sleep with Valentine’s arm laid casually across him as if she did it every single night.
It must have affected her more than she wanted to let on, too, because in a moment she asked, “Where are you from, originally?”
“Georgia. Over close to the Alabama line.”
“Did your folks—farm?”
He smiled at her genteel prodding. “If you’re askin’ did we own slaves, no we did not. We farmed, but we did all our own work. My daddy was dirt poor, but we wouldn’t have owned slaves, no matter what. My parents didn’t hold with that.”
He felt the tension leave her at his words.
“I had a brother and a sister,” he volunteered, and was sorry in the next breath when Valentine asked, “Where are they now?”
“Gone,” he answered shortly. “My—mama and daddy were killed. In the war…Union soldiers…raiders, really. The war was almost over by then. My brother and I, we got hit over the head and left for dead. Guess they didn’t think we were important enough to even kill outright.” He gave a low sigh.
“My sister Emily—they—had their way with her. She—she ain’t been right since then. Jack and me didn’t know what else to do but take her to live at the convent.”
At his back, Valentine gave a soft gasp, but he went on.
“Emily—when I go to visit, she doesn’t speak. Sometimes, she looks at me and I think she wants to…I think she knows me…and other times, I think—”
He broke off, not able to voice the terrible thoughts that haunted him so often. He couldn’t help but wonder if maybe Emily would’ve been better off put out of her misery, as Jack had suggested so long ago.
His brother had said Emily was like a mad dog, with eyes that looked right through both of them. Jack had wanted to do what he said was the kindest thing—put a bullet in her head. But it wasn’t in Levi to stand by and not protect his sister however he had to—even from their own brother.
“You do, and I’ll kill you dead, Jack Connor!” he’d shouted.
<
br /> Jack had smiled a slow, sad smile. “You probably would, Levi. But ask yourself this—do you want to live the rest of your life knowin’ a score of damn Yankees has screwed your sister? Look at her—do you think she cares if she lives or dies?”
No. At that moment, when Levi had glanced at Emily, she sat staring straight ahead, looking neither to the right nor the left, paying no heed to her brothers who sat no more than ten feet away discussing her murder.
“I say we put her down like a mad dog,” Jack had said softly. “She’d be in a better place.”
“Better than what?” Levi had spat. “I ain’t gonna murder my own sister. An’ you ain’t, either. She goes to the convent. Nobody need know what all happened to her.”
How Levi had hated the smug smile Jack had bent on him.
“Nobody need know,” he mocked, “’cept you an’ me—an’ of course, Emily. She won’t never forget.”
Levi had plowed into Jack, pummeling at him with all the pent-up rage at their lot in life, so furious that he’d damn near beaten his brother to a bloody pulp. Jack hadn’t seemed to fight back—almost as if he had nothing left to defend himself with, and no anger of his own to unleash.
Once they’d seen Emily safely to the convent, they’d gone their separate ways. Levi suspected he had too much conscience left to keep company with his older brother any longer. But at least, Emily was safe.
“She may not speak, but there’s a good chance she knows you, Levi.” Valentine’s voice was sweet and low. “Sometimes, people who’ve been through a terrible experience like Emily did—they lose their way. But sometimes, it’s not forever.”
Levi shook his head, afraid to believe. “How I wish there was hope. But—she’s so—” His voice cracked, and he clamped his lips shut. He’d already shown enough of himself—too much—to this woman he barely knew. His face flushed, and it had nothing to do with fever.
Hope was something he couldn’t afford—and hadn’t had—for many years.
“My father had started studying trauma cases when he passed away,” Valentine said. “There’s much we don’t know about the brain…our emotions…how things affect us.” She was quiet for a moment. Then, she said, “I’m so sorry about your family, Levi. Seems we’ve both suffered some losses.”
“As you said, we survived.” He smiled, reminding her of her earlier statement.
Valentine brushed a light kiss on his bare shoulder. “Yes. We survived. And we’ll continue.”
Levi nodded. “I won’t let him get to you, Val…This Mr. Jacobs…”
Valentine nodded. “I know you’ll do your best to keep him from it.”
“I promise…”
“Some promises you can’t keep,” she said sadly. “He’s powerful, Levi…he can have anything he wants. And only death will stop him.”
****
The next morning, Levi awoke to find himself alone in bed. He wasn’t surprised—after all, Valentine had only lain down with him because his fever had been raging out of control.
Still, he felt something a lot like loneliness settle around his heart as he turned to the empty place where she’d been the night before.
He tried to stand, and though his leg was stiff, he was able to put some weight on it if he was careful and took it slow.
She’d had to cut off his pants. Now, he stood bare-assed to the wind. If she came through the entry, there’d be nothing left to her imagination.
He pulled the sheet free of the bed and wrapped it around his waist. His leg throbbed, but he was determined to make it to the kitchen. A cup of fresh water shouldn’t be this hard to claim.
Levi hobbled to the blanket-door, pulling it open, one hand clasping the sheet. Damn, it was cold outside the bed.
Just then, Valentine rounded the corner and stood face-to-face with him.
“What are you doing out of bed?” Her eyes flashed fire at him. “Are you trying to tear your leg open? You get back in bed, right now!”
“I was just trying—”
“You’re not ready yet!” She slipped under his arm.
Levi held fiercely to the sheet as she led him back toward the bed.
“Ow, damn it! That hurts!”
“Yes,” she answered sweetly. “I know. And it’s not nearly as bad as it would’ve been if I hadn’t caught you when I did.”
He reached the bed and sat down hard, grimacing. And, the worst thing was, he realized she was right. His leg had barely held up, giving way just as they’d reached the side of the bed.
She stood over him, eyes blazing like an avenging angel, lips pressed together tightly, her hands on his shoulders.
“Val, I—I’m sorry.” Levi let a long sigh go. He’d been a fool. No way he could’ve made it past the door. “I shouldn’t have tried—I didn’t mean to worry you.”
“You stay in this bed, Levi Connor, or so help me, I’ll—”
Levi put up his hands. “I’m sorry. I thought I could do it.” He lowered himself back to the bed, making a grab for the sheet, a low groan escaping him.
Valentine gave a short chuckle. “Lord, there you go again. You thinkin’ I haven’t seen everything you’ve got, Levi? Who do you think cut those pants off of you and settled you in my bed?”
Levi closed his eyes, swallowing back his embarrassment. Valentine’s laugh was soft and magical, and when he peered through his lashes at her, there was sweet mirth in her eyes.
“God,” Levi muttered.
“Don’t be askin’ the Good Lord to take away what I’ve already seen. You gotta just quit bein’ so childish about it, now. You had an injury and I tended to you. That’s all.”
“Ain’t ever had a woman ‘tend’ me.”
“Well, I ’magine you’ve never been hurt quite like this, have you?”
He shook his head. “I was lucky through the war. Got hit a couple of times, but both times was in my arm—once in my shoulder, and once in my wrist. Both of those wounds healed up pretty fast. And of course, they were—ahem…not in the lower vicinity—”
Valentine laughed again, then gave him a serious look. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you—but I figure…you need to know the truth of things. It makes it easier, in the long run.”
“Much obliged. For the truth.”
She glanced at him dubiously, and they both smiled. “I promise—I’ve seen it all before.”
Levi nodded, but couldn’t help the flush that colored his cheeks. He appreciated her honesty, but he wasn’t used to having a young, beautiful woman thrust into the position of playing nursemaid to him.
“Now, what was so all-fired important that you felt you needed to get up out of bed and take a chance on re-injuring your leg for?”
“A cup of water. I—just—didn’t want you to have to spend time waiting on me. You’ve got enough to do.” Sounded plumb silly, put like that.
“It’s no trouble. You need to rest and let your leg heal. I don’t mind bringing your meals to you. It’s not worth the damage you might do if you fell.”
“I’ll make it up to you.” Levi sank back into the bed and Valentine deftly covered him with the quilts.
Weakness engulfed him, and darkness began to steal over him.
“You just sleep now, Levi.”
As if he had any choice.
CHAPTER FIVE
By the morning of the third day Levi was there, Valentine helped him into the front room where he could sit on the worn couch.
Coffee’s bed was nearby, and he and Levi soon became fast friends.
“Coffee doesn’t usually take to strangers,” Valentine said as she prepared breakfast.
But Coffee nuzzled Levi’s hand as if they’d been companions forever. Levi smiled and scratched the dog’s head.
“I believe he’s feelin’ better, too.”
Valentine nodded. “He sure is. I was worried about him yesterday, not wanting to eat much—but I made him some scrambled eggs this morning and I thought he was gonna lick the paint off the plate.” She tu
rned and gave Levi a bright smile. “That sure did my heart good. Made me so happy!”
Levi nodded. “I’m glad. Sounds like he’s gonna be okay, after all.”
“I sure hope so.” The smile faded. “There’s nothin’ says it won’t happen again, though. I don’t know what to do. Seems like Mr. Reginald Jacobs is bound and determined to fight dirty—hide in the shadows and try to break me down—if he’s the one who hurt Coffee.”
If Levi could have managed it, he would’ve stood up and gone to her, enfolded her in his arms—but he didn’t. His leg had been paining him something fierce, and though Valentine had looked at it and told him it was healing as it should, he couldn’t help but worry.
“Val—once I get well—”
“I can’t ask you to fight my battles for me, Levi,” she interrupted. “Especially this one.” She shook her head and looked away.
“Dammit!” He smacked the floor with his hand, and Coffee jumped. “Sorry, boy.” He reached to pet the dog, but he fixed Valentine with a hard stare. “You aren’t asking me to fight your battles—but that doesn’t mean I’m not goin’ to, Val.”
She looked at him slowly. “No man. No man…will ever own me, Levi Connor. Do you understand that? I am not a slave. I’m not some man’s play toy. I am—me. Valentine Rose Reneau—my own person.
“I’ve been alone for nearly five years now since Papa’s been gone. I’m twenty-one years old. Nearly too old to even be marriageable anymore. And who would I marry? Oh, yes, I can ‘pass’—but why? Why would I want to live a lie? What’s wrong with just being me?”
Levi reached up and took her hand, pulling her down to him. She knelt on the floor beside him, tears streaming down her cheeks.
“I’m sorry—” she began in a whisper.
But Levi shook his head. “No. No, ma’am, Valentine Rose Reneau. Don’t you dare say you’re sorry. ’Cause there ain’t one damn thing for you to be sorry about. Everything you said is true.”
He pushed back a lock of her dark brown hair, then wiped her tears with a knuckle.
“That’s about the best speech I ever heard—and now, I’m gonna make one of my own. I said I was gonna protect you—and I am. Not because I expect any favors from you, Valentine—but because I want to help you. Hell, I’d be dead by now if you hadn’t brought me in and tended my leg like you did.”
Dark Trail Rising: Four Tales of the Old West Page 13